When Winter Comes

Chapter 12: Winter Enters Darkness

IGNORE ALL ERRORS

Chapter 12: Winter Enters Darkness

Once upon a time, a girl pretended to be a princess. Little did she know that the princess would turn to a witch.

- Winter Ozlin's Diary

. . .

Pre-Calc was the longest class of my life. Mr Harder groaned on and on about graphing and all that fun stuff. Jace was in my class, so he watched me like a hawk throughout the entire forty minutes. He threw me a note saying how worried he was about me, but I brushed away the letter and tried to focus on Mr. Harder.

After Austin broke up with me, he walked away and rejoined Taylor and Brett in the cafeteria. He told me that maybe in the future we could try again, but I didn't see that happening. To me, it seems as if he was done with me. But the truth was, he was done with me the day I left Brinston Prep and never spoke to anyone after that.

The bell rang and signaled the end of class. Thankfully, it was my last class of the day and I could go lay in bed and pretend that I didn't have the worst day ever, after my parents death day.

"Winter, wait!" Jace called after me as I fast walked down the hall. My shoes clicked on each marble tile. They didn't stop at Jace's call. My eyes were fixated on the door and I was leaving. Pain echoed around in my brain, telling me to feed it. And the part that hurt the most, was that I wanted to feed it more than I ever wanted to before.

I pushed forward and was soon in my room. Desperately, I searched around for the shoebox I had came to the school with. My body fell onto the ground and I swept away clothes and shoes and books and papers. My eyes scanned the floor and under my bed for the black box that held my darkness. But, there was no sign of the past. It was gone.

Sighing, I clasped into a ball and stared at the bottom of my desk's chair. My eyes traced the design of the feet. Pain snuck into me, and I couldn't help the water that had left my eyes. The nails on my fingers scratched my palms. Deeper and deeper, they dug. My eyes sealed themselves. I feared myself at the moment, because I felt the pain in my hands. It was pain that I hadn't felt in months, but I turned back to it, and because of that I hated myself more. What was wrong with me? When had I become the delicate girl who feared herself? People used to be scared of me.

When I saw the the first drop of red leave my fist, my body relaxed, and I was able to finally have a restful sleep.

. . .

Voices awoke me the next morning. The sun shined into my room and casted light right above my eyes. Squinting, my elbows lifted me off the stiff floor. Instantly, I regretted falling asleep on the hard wood surface. My back was strained and I could feel a knot already growing on my shoulder. Rotating my shoulder, I stood and glanced at myself in the mirror. My black hair was a mess and I couldn't help but notice the touches of red above my eye, on my cheek, and on my chin. I looked down at my hands and noticed that my palms were stained red. My eyes shut, remembering the agony I had brought myself that night.

"What are you wearing for homecoming?" A girl said outside my door. Fully alerted and awake, I looked to the door. Homecoming? I had forgotten all about the event. Then, my eyes looked at the calendar on my wall. It was October 1st, the day my parents died. Homecoming the day after.

"Probably something tight," the other girl responded.

My body drifted closer to the wall to hear the conversation. I didn't recognize either of their voices.